#15 In Which a Scruple Arises At A Cocktail Party and You Say So What

The last cocktail party I attended was an absente party. It was at my friend Wally’s new apartment in Brooklyn. He just moved out of his family house in Connecticut after his last kid went off to college, and being single and fancy-free, (and having some cash to spend after the sale of the large suburban home) he decided to revisit his dream of heading back to the city. 

This apartment is no ordinary apartment; it is large and has high ceilings and Wally has a talent for picking paint colors. When I arrive the lights are dim and there are several couches organized around a small steamer trunk/table, Wally set it up as an absente bar. He has four different types of absente and I had no idea he had become an absente geek. There is a special way to prepare ones glass of absente and it requires accoutrements like special silver sugar spoons, a crystal bowl of individually metallic wrapped sugar cubes, and a glass antique dispenser. He also has a few bottles of alternate absente, and recites the various flavor characteristics of each.

Wally gives each guest that arrives instructions on how to dispense the drink and pour it over the sugar cube to add sweetness. 

The whole thing has a drug den feeling to me, and I like it.

After taking my first sip I sort of like the anise flavor, but not too much. I decide that I will not get drunk but nurse the drink and keep an eye open to be sure that if I start to hallucinate, perhaps I can stop the process from going too far.  I’m not sure why I think I might hallucinate (wormwood and Through the Looking Glass associations), but I took several subways to get to Wally’s drug den, and I want to make sure I get home okay.

Then a few more people come in and for some reason I start to feel like I’m in a J.D. Salinger novel, and I’m not super comfortable. Aside from Wally, I don’t know anyone but start to wonder if I should. Not completely paranoid, but sort of on the fringe. A bit of social anxiety was kicking in and the absente wasn’t helping.

But I try to play it cool and think about changing my name to Franny or Zooey when I make new introductions, but I resist the temptation and go along with the thread. I decide to switch to water and realize that I am officially a party pooper, but don’t want to drag anyone down with me.

So then this cute hipster guy comes in and it turns out that he rode his bike all the way from the west village to Brooklyn and I am impressed. It is dark out and I am a fan of biking as an alternative form of transportation. He gets his absente tutorial and then sits next to me.

“Hi, I’m Zooey.”

“Hi, I’m Ed. Is your name really Zooey?”

“Yup. My parents were real Salinger fans. I know it sounds pretentious but, I had no say in the matter.”

He looks at me with slight disbelief.

“Really?”

“Yup” and I take a sip of water.

“How do you know Wally?”

“We went to boarding school together.”

Ed laughs.

“Seriously?”

“Yup”.

This in fact is true. I was a day student and Wally was a boarding student.  Then I start to feel like I’m in a Wes Anderson movie and I love Wes Anderson.

“We are different” and I do that wavy motion with my hands that Mr. Fox  (“Foxy”) does in The Fantastic Mr. Fox when he is talking to his son, Ash, and Ed gets the reference.*

“Okay, Zooey. Whatever you say.”

*Google hand motions in FMF